


Inward Trembling

by Violsva



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Multi, Polyamory, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 02:06:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9470597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violsva/pseuds/Violsva
Summary: Holmes gets to watch.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read as an epilogue to [In Your Patience Possess](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4249068), but can also stand alone.

“However you are comfortable,” Watson said, and I pulled a chair away from the window and sat there, on the far side of the bed from them and the door. He looked at me watching, and then turned to Mary and pulled her into a kiss.

I had seen them kissing before; I had kissed them both before. But from the very start this was different, even from my distant point of view – not lewd, yet, but promising everything. Mary arched up in his arms, and he pressed her against him.

She was in her nightgown, and Watson’s hands pulled the linen tight against her curves. Her hands moved from his back to the ties of his dressing gown, fumbling a little. He was caressing her through the cloth, and she trembled from it, but she did manage to untie them and shove the garment open. “Oh,” she whispered, not surprised so much as enraptured.

“Darling,” Watson whispered back, and Mary pushed the dressing gown all the way off him. She looked, and I looked, with wonder. I had seen him nude before, at the Turkish baths, though thinking him unavailable I had tried to keep my gaze from lingering. He had, I noticed absently, filled out very well since he had arrived, thin and ill, wanting to share rooms with me. He was beautiful now. Mary’s hand reached for his chest at once.

But Watson stripped Mary’s nightgown off over her head before she could touch him, and she raised her arms and blushed as he dropped it behind her. As soon as she was free of the cloth she was pressing herself against him again, and his arms pulled her closer.

I watched their bodies caught together, their skin and the hair over it and the shapes of them under it. Pink and brown and gold, sudden glimpses of otherwise hidden parts as one or the other of them moved, sometimes and in some parts fitting gracefully, others – their knees, I saw, with an odd twist of affection – knocking awkwardly and competing for space. Watson loosened his hold after a minute, and turned a little towards me, or the bed, but Mary clutched at him and he obliged her. She had taken her hair down earlier, and his hands slid into it and tangled themselves happily. He was kissing along her neck now, and her head was tilted back, her eyes shut.

She bent her head to catch his mouth again, and their entire bodies moved again with the kiss, sliding and thrusting against each other. They were both shaking, and I worried for a moment, but then Mary’s hands settled on Watson’s shoulders, and she pulled back for a moment to whisper, “I don’t think I can stand up any longer.”

“Nor I,” said Watson, and they sat, or fell, onto the bed together. After a moment of rearranging Watson knelt bent over Mary, her head on the pillow. She glanced at me, then back up at him.

“What first?” she asked, blushing.

“You first,” said Watson. His hands were already at her breasts, but they moved with more intention and she whimpered as he played with her nipples. He kissed her, which perforce meant I saw less of his actions, but I could see their bodies shifting as they tried to get closer to each other, I could see how hard he was for her, I could see her hips starting to lift off the bed towards his from her arousal.

Watson lifted his head from Mary’s and took a moment to breathe as she panted and wriggled impatiently under him. Then he replaced his fingers on her breasts with his lips, and his hand slid along her side and between her legs.

I could see his mouth far better than his hand, so I watched him suck at her nipples, and could see as well her face, her reactions. She watched his face at first, and then she gasped and her head fell back to the pillow. Her eyes closed, and soon her face screwed up with pleasure, and her every breath became audible.

At last her legs came up and wrapped around his waist, and she dug her fingers into his back and flexed her entire body and moaned, her voice deeper than usual. Her eyes were tightly shut. Watson was passionately working at her breasts.

When she relaxed and her legs opened he moved up her body and kissed her, and she moaned again and clung to him. They kissed, and I watched with desperate desire – not to be kissing them, not for them to do more, just _desire_ , heavy objectless want. I barely remembered that I had a physical body that could sate it.

Mary’s hands began sliding freely over Watson’s back, feeling his ribs and muscles and scars. He was balanced a little over her, so as not to press his weight down on her, so I could see when one of her hands reached between them and found his prick. Her other stroked his chest, but I watched as she played with him, as she felt out his size and form, as she reached further to caress his stones and his head dropped forward to her shoulder. She returned her hand to his length, eventually, and began to find a rhythm.

“Mary,” Watson gasped, and thrust into her grip. “Mary, oh god, Mary, stop.”

“Have I hurt you?” she asked, pulling her hands away from him at once.

“No,” he gasped, rising up a little. “Oh, no. Not at all. Oh, my love. But another second and I would have come off at once.”

“Is there any reason why you shouldn’t?” she asked, beginning to smile.

He looked startled. “I have more to show you.”

“Does it have to be all at once?” Her hands were sliding over his chest, petting the blond hair. “I mean, I should love anything, whenever, dearest, but I want very badly to touch you.”

He laughed, shakily. “Please touch me, then. I can save – oh, Mary, yes, a little tighter. Oh.” He buried his face in her shoulder. “I’ll mount you later, tomorrow, whenever you like,” he murmured. “Oh, Mary, ohhhh...” He spent onto her waist, and she turned her head a little towards him, and slowed her hand. He sighed.

“Oh, my dear,” he said. He pulled himself off her, then dazedly fumbled at the washstand. “Here you are,” he said, cleaning her off with the towel he had found. He lay next to her and wrapped his arms around her, and she turned to him and kissed him.

I wondered if they were finished, but Mary’s hips were rubbing against his with slowly increasing speed. At last Watson laughed and flipped her onto her back, one of her legs coming to wrap around his. “Another?” he asked, and she made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan. He kissed along her collarbone, then her chest; then he looked up, at me.

“Unless you would like to try?” he asked, and I blinked, surprised by the reminder that I was here, in the room with them, and not just a pair of eyes.

“No,” I said. I could not imagine moving, at the moment.

“But you are comfortable?” Mary asked. I nodded, and jerked my head at them, and Watson took it as the sign it was and turned back to Mary’s breasts.

I did not realize what he meant to do until his mouth was at her pelvis, kissing slowly along one hip. Then I wondered – for I had never heard of it. I had heard of the act performed on a man, but not this, not Watson burying his face in Mary’s cunny with clear enjoyment.

“Oh!” said Mary, bending to look at him, then falling back onto the pillow. “Oh _John_! Oh, oh, you are – oh!”

I could not see what he was doing between her legs, where his lips were, how he was making her moan and clutch the sheets like that. But I could see her clenching her fists and raising her hips to him, could see how he laid a hand on her to keep her in place as she whimpered and pushed herself toward his mouth. I could see her face, as her eyes squeezed shut and she began to shake her head and tremble, and I could hear her beautiful noises and how she screamed at the last and how she moaned as she came down from her climax, and John kept licking her until she wiggled a little and pushed his face away. He wiped his mouth with one hand, looking very smug. Mary lay limp and utterly relaxed before him.

John wrapped his arms around her, lying beside her. She hummed and pressed her face against his.

I realized that I was leaning as far forward as I could get while staying on the chair, my elbows on my knees, and that this position was uncomfortable in more ways than one. I pulled myself out of my hunch forward and slumped backward in my seat. “Shall we -?” asked Watson, as I pulled at my trouser front.

“No, stay as you are,” I managed, unbuttoning myself. Mary turned in his arms to watch me. “You – you two -” My prick was heavy in my hand, as hard as the wood of the chair I sat on. I grabbed it and looked at them, both of them watching me, holding each other and relaxed and shining with sweat, and with scarcely any work at all I spilled over myself, desperately keeping my eyes open. The shocks of pleasure lasted longer than I was used to, and I lay back, staring at my companions, as my breathing returned to normal.

“Come here,” said Mary, reaching for me. I found my way onto the bed, and as an afterthought kicked away my trousers. Mary wrapped her arms around me.

“Holmes,” said Watson, and he craned his neck to kiss me over her. “God,” he added, falling back to the pillow.

My hot breath mixed with Mary’s; my feet were hanging off the end of the bed. Mary hummed and sighed and pulled me closer. I began sorting through the events of the past hour in my mind, and they, and then I, drifted asleep.


End file.
